


Without A Paddle

by Miso



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: "johnny gets a free pass" the fanfic, (implied that johnny is bipolar), Bisexual Male Character, F/M, M/M, Past Relationship(s), seriously i love patrick and david too but (gestures vaguely at johnny)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 19:21:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13910523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miso/pseuds/Miso
Summary: Johnny's life is going fine. Until a certain someone reappears without warning.





	1. On Location

**Author's Note:**

> and thus, i continued to shove headcanons onto every eugene levy character ever in the history of film. i personally headcanon that johnny is bisexual, bipolar, and bi-tired-of-everyone's-shit but he's also got a lot of shit he never dealt with. my horrible dad. if you're wondering who roger is meant to resemble, its joe flaherty. i'm sctv garbage first and foremost.

On some level, Johnny actually _liked_ Schitt's Creek. It was quiet, charming, slow and steady. There were no socialites hounding him for a chance to get into his wallet or awkward swinger's circles to get caught up in. The motel was feeling less like a backwoods flophouse and more like a home. He was even starting to get used to the little pin on his lapel that bore his name. At first it was awkward, even demeaning, but maybe that was how all the people who worked at Rose Video back in the day felt too. How the mighty had fallen.

David was in a healthy relationship (well, as healthy as David's relationships could get). Alexis was in college. Moira was... well, she was being Moira about the whole situation, still, but after all these years, Johnny was used to his wife's nonsense. Stevie was like a third child to him. Roland wasn't even that awful to be around anymore. Johnny still wished he would shower a little more often, and stop telling him about his bathroom habits, but it could be a lot worse.

All told, everything was fine. Better than fine. His family was thriving, his social life was solid, he actually had profit coming in, and by God he hadn't even had a manic episode followed by the crash of a lifetime in a few months. Johnny made a mistake he hadn't made since he was first trying to get Rose Video off the ground. He let his guard down.

And there he was, behind the counter, staring into a pair of honey-colored eyes he remembered all too well. His hands were shaking, his mouth was dry, and his knees were weak. The air conditioning was on, but he could feel the sheen of sweat building on his forehead. Wiping his clammy palms on his pants, he cleared his throat and tried to speak, but all that came out was a croak of the man's name.

"Roger."

"John."

A pause.

"Been... been a long time."

"Yeah. It has."

Another pause.

"... Any... any reason you're in town?"

"Save the pleasantries. I just want my room key."

"... Okay." Johnny hadn't felt so small in a while. With trembling hands, Johnny handed Roger his key. "R-room two."

"Thank you." With that, he turned, and the door to the office slammed behind him. Silence fell, silence aside from Johnny breathing shakily as the air conditioner happily hummed away and the computer beeped, presenting an error Johnny paused just long enough to look at.

_rosebud.exe has stopped working. Please close the program and try again._

Johnny took a moment to muse on how apropos the message seemed before returning his thoughts to fucking stupid sexy Roger Barencourt and his very unwanted, untimely arrival.

\---

Johnny had a hard time focusing on anything for the rest of the day. When a guest arrived, he could keep it under wraps. His businessman facade would automatically start pulling its weight and he'd get through the interaction fine, just to fall apart again as soon as he was alone. Being alone in his and Moira's room after the lobby closed didn't help.

He was grateful the motel only had one floor. Had it been two stories or more, he probably would have worn a rut in the floor and fallen to the room below by now. Johnny liked to keep moving when he was thinking. If he stopped, he would end up cocooned in blankets and unable to move until his latest depressive episode finally let go of him.

Moira had some town council thing to deal with. David and Patrick were on a make-up date. Alexis... well, who knew where Alexis was? What would he talk to his kids about, anyway? _My ex-boyfriend is in the motel and I'm dying on the inside?_ No, no, he could hear their responses now. "Ew, Dad!" and "Okay, I don't know what you expect me to do about that." He wasn't even sure the kids knew he'd been with anyone, much less a man, prior to meeting their mother. They didn't need to know. Did they? Or did he owe them that knowledge? Especially David. They were in similar enough boats, right? But maybe that knowledge would just scar him. How would he even broach the concept? _Hey! I know what you're going through! I remember when my ex-boyfriend railed me into his satin sheets and choked me and-_

Johnny physically shook his head and combed his fingers through his silver hair, taking a deep breath and chiding himself for letting his thoughts wander like that. He wasn't in his twenties anymore and Roger wasn't the dominant, powerful presence he used to be. He couldn't be. At the same time, though, Johnny felt so tiny and helpless faced with his presence earlier.

A knock on the door startled him into the present, and with a wince and heavy sigh, Johnny dragged himself to the door and turned the handle. Stevie. Thank fuck. "Oh, good, it's just you," he began, not getting a chance to continue before she cut him off.

"Uh, yeah, some guy wants to talk to you about something. Room two. He wouldn't tell me what."

Johnny swore for a second he was going to faint. It took all of his strength to keep his knees from buckling. "... Alright." A pause. "... Are you watching the lobby? It's supposed to be closed-"

"I know, I know, but I remembered we had a late booking and... just talk to him, would you?"

"... I'll go, I'll go..."

\---

Johnny wasn't sure what he expected when he walked into Roger's room. He took a deep breath and wiped his palms on his slacks again before turning the knob, trying to comfort himself with the knowledge that the door wouldn't lock behind him and if he needed to run, the option was there. He was quiet as he stepped in, the door clicking shut behind him as he and Roger made eye contact.

"... Is something wrong, sir?"

"You and I both know what I wanted to talk about. Don't sugarcoat it." Roger adjusted the glasses he'd apparently started wearing at some point and stood up. "Neither of us expected to run into the other ever again. At least, I certainly never thought you'd rear your head again." He padded to the room's fridge and withdrew a bottle of fine scotch whiskey. Roger always did have nice taste. "What are you doing here? This... this isn't the place I expected to see Johnny Rose again."

Johnny swallowed all the saliva in his mouth before speaking. "I... it's a long story."

"Moira leave you?"

"No, no! She's just busy with council stuff tonight, so-"

"Council?"

"... We've been living here for a couple of years." Johnny sighed a little and sunk onto the evidently-unused second bed. "I don't want to get into details, but... things went pear-shaped for us, and we're... this is all we had left." As if on autopilot, he accepted the tumbler of scotch Roger passed him. "What about you?"

"I'm scouting locations for my next movie."

"You're still directing? I'd have thought you'd retired by now."

"I'll retire when I die." Roger took a sip of his whiskey and silence passed for a moment. "... So you and Moira..."

"We're still married, Roger."

"Damn."

Roger couldn't hide his dismay very well. He never could. "So one night for old times' sake is out of the cards."

"I mean... I don't think Moira would let me play a free pass on you."

"Make me feel real welcome, Mr. Rose, go ahead." Roger downed the rest of his scotch and refilled his tumbler. Johnny had barely touched his, opting instead to watch the ice melt and form drops of condensation on the outside of the glass. Roger wiped his lips and turned to Johnny. "You know I never moved on. Not really. I can't tell you how many men I called your name."

"... That's sweet, Roger," Johnny admitted, feeling his face color. "But... I can't. You know I can't."

Silence fell. Johnny handed Roger his drink, stood, and left the room without another word. Shutting the door behind him as he stepped into the heavy summer night, he made it mere steps towards his room before he felt the tears prick at his eyes.

In the back of his head, the words he wished he'd said echoed.

_I never really moved on, either._


	2. Nostalgia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start getting out of hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> johnny "YOU CANT CATCH ME GAY THOUGHTS" rose

Johnny had the worst night of sleep he'd had since that first night in Schitt's Creek. He tossed, turned, stared at the ceiling and the clock on the nightstand and the television, when he finally gave up and turned it on to see what might be airing. Nothing that was engaging enough to distract him from his predicament. He wasn't sure what he expected out of over-the-air TV at 5 am in _Schitt's Goddamned Creek_.

At least he'd gotten a call from Moira. Well, from Ronnie about Moira; apparently some libations got passed around at the council meeting and she'd dragged Moira, drunk as a lord, out of the building and to her car. "I'll bring her home in the morning," she'd said. Johnny had only offered a soft "mhm" in reply before hanging up. Alexis had texted him and let him know she was with Twyla on an impromptu "girl's trip" to Elmdale and they'd be back in the evening. Johnny had no reason to be worried about David. Patrick would probably die before letting any harm befall him.

All of that left him with nowhere to turn his mind but fucking Roger. _In a strictly metaphorical sense,_ he reassured himself, though he wasn't even sure how true that was anymore. As the clock ticked over to 5:30, he decided to give up on sleep, and elected to just get in the shower and maybe take his mind somewhere he actually wanted it to go. Showers were good. Showers were almost more about thinking than about getting clean. Maybe a fresh slate was what he needed after the day before.

At first, the scald of the overly-hot water was painful, but it quickly eased into a therapeutic burn. Johnny took a deep breath, reached for his shampoo, and began lathering his hair. He hated his hair being wet. This part had to be overwith as quick as possible.

Digging his nails into his scalp and pushing the suds from his hair, Johnny barely noticed as his mind wandered. He wasn't even sure where the memory came from. Maybe it was the tile in the shower, probably installed at some point in the 1970s, that brought memories of his early 20s flashing back to him. A phantom pair of hands, too big and masculine to be Moira's, moved from his shoulders, down his sides, and gripped his hips. A stubbled chin brushed against his skin as someone bit the nape of his neck gently. Johnny shuddered almost imperceptibly, almost able to swear he was back in his 22-year-old self's body, as those hands- _Roger's hands_ , he realized with more than a bit of terror- dug their fingertips into his hips.

_"You thought you could get away with showering alone, huh?"_

A soft nip on his neck, again, this one closer to his pulse.

_"C'mere. Let me taste you again. You're so gorgeous, John, goddammit, I'm so lucky. You drive me insane."_

His knees were weak. Why could he feel all of those ministrations from so long ago like they were happening now?

_"Shhh, shhh, it's alright. I've got you. If I hurt you, tell me."_

Johnny only realized where he was when the water ran cold and drenched him in icy torment that killed any fantasy he might have been having immediately.

Alone in a cold shower, Johnny sighed, turned the water off, and resolved that when Moira was home he absolutely had to have a talk with her.

This was getting ridiculous.


	3. Hall Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny and Moira have a heart-to-heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as an aside, infidelity =/= okay, be upfront w yr significant others folks

That talk with Moira went better than expected. To be fair, she was still marginally hungover, and Johnny wasn't sure how to approach the subject in the first place, but Moira was surprisingly okay with the whole situation. Johnny had almost keeled over from shock when Moira responded to "Roger Barencourt is in room two and I think he might want to have a one night stand with me" with "Oh, okay."

Resolving that she couldn't possibly have fully understood him, Johnny broached the issue again at dinner. "So, um... Moira. Remember Roger?"

"Roger Barencourt? That handsome director that had the biggest crush on you?" Moira smiled a little and slipped her reading glasses off. "How could I forget a jawline like that?"

"Crush on- Moira, we were dating." Johnny cocked an eyebrow, silently thanking his lucky stars that the kids weren't around to hear this conversation. "You know we were dating. He sent me flowers and love letters until David started kindergarten trying to get me back."

"I know, John, let a woman believe that she's the sole keeper of her husband's heart." Moira closed the diner menu and folded her hands. "What brings him up?"

"... He's staying in room 2 at the motel."

"He is?! What on Earth draws someone like Roger Barencourt to a..." Moira paused to look for the right word. "Little hovel like this?"

"Location scouting." Johnny paused and focused on a coffee ring on the table. "I... we talked the other night, while you were at Ronnie's. He's... I think he might want to have sex with me?"

"He what." Moira had never sounded flatter in her life. In fact, flat monotones were something Johnny didn't think his wife capable of, and it scared the shit out of him. "John..."

"That's why I thought you should know. Please don't go hunting him down and mount his head in the lobby." Johnny paused to sip his water in a desperate attempt to look like he wasn't about to pass out from anxiety. "But... remember when you told me you wanted Tom Selleck as a free pass?"

"Yes..." Moira seemed to think about the implications of that statement for a moment, before her eyes went wide. "John!"

"Look, I... Moira, neither of us really got closure on the relationship. You just kind of... showed up and threw me for a real loop. Next thing I know, you're pregnant, and... I'm already falling for you, and I just... packed up my things and left his place while he was filming a documentary in Bora Bora."

Moira contemplated for a moment. How would she feel in Roger's shoes? If the man she loved not only slept with someone else, but got them pregnant, fell for them, and then just up and vanished while she was out of the country? And then there were all the bouquets, and notes that were more pleas of desperation. Who was she to prevent some sort of closure?

"... How long is he in town?"

"Until Sunday."

Moira paused again, sighed deeply, and sipped her water. "You can have two."

"What?"

"Two nights, John. Do as you wish with him. Just come back when they're over."

"... I will." Johnny reached across the table and gripped Moira's hand. "Moira, I love you. Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere."

Moira smiled, squeezed Johnny's hand, and replaced her reading glasses to continue examining the menu in time for Twyla to arrive at the table.

"Am I interrupting something...? You looked like you were having a pretty intense conversation, so-"

"You're fine, dear," Moira intoned, the serene smile on her face enough reassurance for Johnny to relax. He swore he felt his blood pressure fall as Twyla scribbled down their orders and vanished behind the counter again.

"Moira?"

"Hm?"

"Are we... is this really okay?"

"Yes?" Moira sipped her drink again. "John. I know I have a bit of a tendency to be dramatic and not a hundred percent forward, but I want you to know that this time, I mean it. As long as you don't run away with him, you have two evenings to do what you please."

"... You don't know how much that means to me, sweetheart."


	4. Regency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny relives his young adulthood, just for a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and this is where i chickened out of writing a Boning Scene bc writing johnny rose having sex feels a lot like writing my grandpa having sex and I Dont Like That

When Johnny made his way to the door of Room 2 at the Rosebud Motel, he expected to be greeted by Roger in one of those finely-tailored tweed suits he always wore, looking as charming as the day they met, a smile on his face and eyes of gold shimmering with delight and desire. He did not, however, expect a note taped to the door.

_John,_

_Got your text. Come to the Regency in Elmdale. Ask for Chris Leicaster. They'll know._

_Roger._

It was laconic and to the point. He remembered Roger's notes in the past being like that, but he didn't remember them being so hastily scrawled onto stationary stolen from a Holiday Inn somewhere in Idaho, if the address on the paper was, in fact, correct.

He sat in the driver's seat of his car for a moment, staring at the doors. The Regency was the nicest hotel in the area. Solid three and a half stars. It wasn't the hotels they _used_ to go to, but it wasn't a no-tell motel. For a moment, Johnny put his fingers back to the keys, ready to turn the ignition and burn rubber back to the motel, fall into Moira's arms sobbing and beg for her to not hate him. A little voice in the back of his brain nagged at him; "What are you doing?" it said, "She might have said it's okay but you know it probably isn't."

Johnny took a deep breath and spoke to no one but himself in his car. "No. She said it was okay. Twelve times. She meant it."

With that, he unbuckled his seatbelt and made his way inside.

"Chris Leicaster" was in room 703, on the top floor. When the door opened, Johnny found himself met with, yes, Roger in a tweed suit with a smile on his face, but the lights were dimmed and a bottle of champagne sat cooling in a bucket of ice near the television. The setting sun tinted the entire room a soft pinkish tone. If he'd been a younger man, Johnny thought, he probably would've swooned and been completely serious about it.

"Everything you dreamed it would be?" Roger asked, shutting the door behind Johnny and smiling warmly. "... You know, I'll have to get your wife something for this. What's the traditional 'thank you for letting me nail my ex-boyfriend even though he's married to you' gift?"

Johnny couldn't help but laugh. That was the Roger he remembered. "... She'd appreciate that," he began as Roger's arms slid around his waist. "I... Rog?"

"You have no idea how good it is to hear you say that again." Roger pressed a kiss to Johnny's neck. "What do you need?"

A pause. Roger smiled sweetly and whispered, "I'll go as slow as you want."

"Can we start with just... kissing? Like we used to?"

"Anything you want."

As Roger guided him down into the bed, Johnny let out a quiet sigh, and swore for a moment that he was 22 again, and everything was fantastic.


	5. Simply the Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And all was well with the Roses. Until next week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look i love bi johnny as much as the next fool which is probably no one but /let him and moira be happy/. this is the first schitt's creek fic ive ever written and honestly it was super fun. i'd love to delve into a more ridiculous histrionic moira next time bc good GOD do i ever love moira. <3

Waking up beside Roger was nice, sure. It was nostalgic, different, a change of pace. At the same time, Johnny found himself wishing it was Moira beside him. Roger put an arm around Johnny's midsection and pulled him close in his sleep, and for a moment, Johnny pined to be in this exact spot with Moira.

The morning they parted, Johnny and Roger shared a quick but tender kiss.

"... I needed that."

"Yeah, I... I think I did too."

A pause.

"We're done, now, right?"

"Yeah. I... I'm sorry, Roger-"

"No, no, don't be sorry. I... it's time. We're not young anymore. I'll find someone. You have someone. You have kids. Go be with her." Roger smiled a little and adjusted his glasses. "If you don't think it'd be too hard, though... I'd like to be friends. Just friends."

Johnny smiled. "I think I'd like that, too."

\---

Moira's embrace was like being held by Aphrodite herself. "You have a nice couple of evenings, John?"

"I did."

"But?" Moira rose an eyebrow. She could always hear the tells that there was going to be a 'but' attached. "Something happen?"

"No, no. I just... I don't think I'll need another free pass." Johnny pressed a kiss to Moira's forehead.

"Out of your system, then?"

"Definitely out of my system." Johnny held Moira just a little tighter. "... It means a lot that you trusted me like that."

"John. You've done nothing, ever, to make me not trust you." Moira caressed Johnny's face gently. "I love you dearly. I know you love me. We all have nostalgic twinges."

"But not everyone would let someone go out and... be intimate... with that, ah, nostalgic twinge." Johnny gripped Moira's wrist. "You-"

"Shhhh." Moira moved her hand from her husband's cheek to place a quieting finger on his lips. "It's behind us now. I'll treat you to breakfast."

"... You're too good to me, Moira."

"Au contraire, John," Moira said as she opened the closet. "You've been nothing but good to me. It's the least I can do to be good to you."

"... Is this a ploy to make sure I don't do that again?"

"Only slightly."

**Author's Note:**

> so as it turns out johnny was totally into some kinky shit. who knew. :P


End file.
